


Single Pillar

by LadyKes



Series: Different Perspectives [2]
Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Episode: s01e12 Murder in the Dark, Gen, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-15
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-31 02:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8560558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKes/pseuds/LadyKes
Summary: Jack Robinson was not in the mood for a party, which had nothing to do with whether he was at one.  Jack POV for the costume party.





	

It was done. The gavel had been pounded, his barrister had given him one final professionally sympathetic smile, and it was done. The _decree nisi_ was in effect. If neither he nor Rosie did anything to alter it (and he was certain neither of them would at this point), in six months he’d be a single man again.

He shook hands perfunctorily with Mr. Phillips and left without looking at Rosie’s side of the room. She was there with her father, her father’s barrister, and her sister. They were all appearing properly solemn, but he knew she was probably glad. She had to be. She’d wanted out for so long.

He, on the other hand, wanted to go get the bottle of cheap whiskey out of his lowest desk drawer and literally drown his sorrows. He felt like a failure as a man and as a husband right now, and considering how this Foyle case was going, it was possible he was going to be a failure as a policeman as well.

It hadn’t been bad, though, as these things went, and he’d be able to admit that to himself once he was in better spirits. He had a good barrister, he didn’t want to be punitive, and there weren’t any children involved, so the paperwork was relatively straightforward. Jack had always grieved that they’d had no children and sometimes wondered if they’d be here in this building if they had, but in the end he was glad that there weren’t any that had to go through this. It was tough on kiddies to watch their parents split. He saw plenty of the consequences of those splits come through the station. 

George’s barrister had made sure that the account of the adultery that Jack’s barrister had used for his filing was only entered into written evidence. Jack was grateful for that too. He’d never read it, though Mr. Phillips had offered him the opportunity. He didn’t want to know who had been involved, didn’t want to know whether they’d been an actual participant or more like what he’d been thinking he might have to do. And, more kindly, he didn’t want Rosie to have to go through the recitation of it either. There was still quite the double standard for women, and he knew Rosie needed and wanted to still be received in the better parts of Melbourne society. With her father’s influence, he was sure her marriage to a simple copper would be forgotten soon enough. She might even make a better second marriage with a more upwardly-mobile man. 

He left the magistrate’s court, trying to leave the feeling of guilt and failure behind too. It wasn’t going to work and he knew it, but he needed to try. There were always cabs outside the court, so he hailed one and directed the driver to City South. The bottle of whiskey was still tempting him. Halfway there, though, he remembered that Miss Fisher’s cousin’s engagement party was tonight. Damn. He’d known that the final hearing was scheduled for today when she handed him the invitation and yet he’d agreed to go with her anyway. Miss Phryne Fisher’s sincerely pleading eyes weren’t something he could ignore or had ever been able to ignore. As of today, they weren’t even something he was required to ignore.

He had the cabbie redirect to Ripponlea and ignored the grumbles about the change in direction. As the cabbie pulled into the drive, Jack glanced up at the house. Every light was on in the house and the grounds were lit as well. Even from inside the cab he could hear the faint noise of a party in full swing. He paid his fare reluctantly and started walking slowly up the steps of the porch. He’d committed to being here, after all, and he kept his commitments, even to his own detriment. The paperwork that had just been filed would attest to that.

With a deep breath and a deliberate effort to make his expression neutral, he stepped into the vast entrance hall. Everyone he saw was in a costume, so that was another way he didn’t fit here. He had neither time nor inclination to find a costume, though the invitation had specified one. If Miss Fisher objected, he’d just have to point out that he’d been somewhat busy trying to solve a murder. He would not add that he’d also been busy officially ending his marriage. 

Speaking of that lady in particular, she was swanning down the hall towards him with a welcoming smile, and of course she was dressed like Cleopatra. Of course she was.

“Jack, you made it,” she said warmly. She had a talent for making every man feel like he was the only one on earth. Until, of course, she went on to the next bloke, which she always did.

“Cleopatra, Queen of the Nile,” he pronounced, glancing down at what her costume didn’t cover. 

“Very good,” she praised him, and for the sake of his concentration, he was glad that she changed the subject to the investigation. It didn’t last, of course, and despite his protests, he soon found himself following her upstairs to find out what costume she’d chosen for him. He could only hope it wasn’t Sherlock Holmes. Surely even Miss Fisher would find that slightly too obvious a choice.

When he saw his chosen costume, though, he almost wished for a deerstalker. 

“So I’m to be the triple pillar of the world, transformed into a strumpet’s fool?” he asked roughly. 

“You’ve been a single pillar of the world for far too long, Jack,” she replied lowly, and he suppressed any reaction to how true that statement was, though he thought it was possible his eyes gave him away. And it was possible she knew anyway. She was very good at getting information out of his Constable and quite able to add two and two together. Occasionally she got five out of it, but more often than not, it was four. 

“No one will know who you are,” she assured him, but it wasn’t much assurance. She would. He would. He’d know he was playing Marc Antony to her Cleopatra. He’d just hope it ended better for him than it did for Marc Antony. 

“Except you,” he pointed out, and even that wasn’t quite true. Jane would almost certainly make the connection and so would Mrs. Stanley. They wouldn’t know the full meaning, perhaps, but they’d make the connection. And it was becoming remarkably hard to think about anything else with Miss Fisher loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt. It probably didn’t even occur to her that he wasn’t generally undressed by anyone but himself and might find it distracting. Or maybe it did and she was doing it on purpose. That was more likely.

“Come on, Jack,” she wheedled, and he focused on anything but the feeling of the back of her fingers on his neck and chest. “Just one gaudy night.”

He needed to stop this before his wits deserted him for more carnal pastures. Anyone who crossed verbal swords with Phryne Fisher needed every advantage they could get, and that went double for him today.

“If you really want a Roman soldier,” he said carefully, forcing himself to focus on her face and not her glittering decolletage, her painted lips, or the smell of her perfume. “Then I’ll take it from here.”

That seemed to satisfy her in terms of his intentions to go along with her costume choice and she silently stepped back to let him continue undressing himself. Once she’d sashayed out of the room with the note, he looked at his ridiculous horsehair helmet then nearly collapsed onto the chair near the bed. He needed to take a moment to breathe. 

So many things had ended today, and he wasn’t ready for anything else to start. For now he’d stay a single pillar of the world, for himself if for no one else.


End file.
